


Infinite Enough

by wildandflowering



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, slightly shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6020701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildandflowering/pseuds/wildandflowering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eiri likes to talk about stars and the universe and everything, and on a deeper level than most people.  Haku likes to listen to Eiri go on about such things, but also comes to his own conclusions, of a sort.</p><p>Sort of a continuation/companion piece to my earlier <i>Runaways</i>.  Prior reading of that fic is not necessary, but encouraged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infinite Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for _Hisui no Shou_.

“Tell me again, Eiri.”

“Tell you what?”

“How many stars there are.”

“Hm…” Haku remains still as Eiri burrows closer to his side, tugging at the blanket to cover the two of them more fully. The longer they stayed out under the night sky, the colder it had become until the best source of warmth was each other. “Well, I mean, my explanation’s not gonna change much. What you can see up there right now, and that’s just on a clear night, is…it’s not even a _fraction_ of how many stars actually exist.” Eiri’s voice builds as his words find traction among this familiar subject. A smile tugs at Haku’s lips. He knows where this is going. Just as he asked for.

“And that’s just what we can see at one time. That’s not counting all the stars on the other side of the world we can’t see yet. And then there’s all those stars we can’t see with the naked eye at all, the ones that are farther away.” Words tumble from Eiri’s lips, rushing to get out, but despite the speed, Haku never hears him trip up. As if Eiri would. When he’s good at something – and Eiri is so good at so many things – he excels. By his confidence alone, Haku could believe Eiri is an actual expert on space.

Then again, Eiri’s the only person he could truly listen to go on about the great black beyond and never feel bored.

“And even then beyond all of _those_ , you have the other galaxies we’ve never even discovered, the ones we’ll probably never discover just because the galaxy, no, all of _space_ is just so…so… _huge_!” Here, Eiri pauses and takes a well-deserved breath, turning his face back toward the sky, the soft light glittering in his eyes. It’s all Haku can focus on, like Eiri’s eyes contain the entirety of the universe in this moment. Eiri as his own little galaxy.

Haku smiles more widely at the thought. He definitely has enough energy for a galaxy.

“Haku, what are you doing?”

“Looking at the stars.”

Eiri frowns. “But they’re not – “

Haku presses a finger to Eiri’s lips. “I know.” His finger rests there for a few seconds, Eiri’s lips cold against his skin, but obediently shushed. But even though the galaxy surrounding them is quiet and dark and distant, the contained universe inside Eiri should never be anything like that. Especially silent. The day Eiri stops yelling or speaking or even breathing in Haku’s presence is going to be the day the entire world and all the worlds beyond it end, he’s sure of it.

There are ways to pull precious sounds from Eiri’s lips. Haku thinks he knows all of them by now. So it’s no surprise that when he rolls over just enough to straddle and hover above Eiri, his Messiah protests and pushes lightly against Haku’s chest. Getting ready for whatever Haku has in mind. “Oh God, what are you doing…”

“Just hanging out with my cute Messiah.”

“I’m not cute!”

“I don’t know. Your face is a pretty good one.”

“ _Haku_.”

“Tell me again about that theory that we’re all made up of stardust.” And since Eiri is his own little galaxy, it only makes sense that he would be full of space stuff, too.

He watches Haku for a moment, then crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you asking so many questions tonight?”

“You’re cute when you talk about things you like.”

“I’m not-!” Eiri huffs and gives up on that line of defense. “Basically it has to do with the Big Bang and how all the elements in the universe came out of that explosion. And since we’re part of the universe, we’re made up of the same stuff, just in different amounts.” Eiri could probably go into more detail, Haku knows, but the answer is good enough for now. Even though he loves listening to Eiri talk, it’s possible Haku wouldn’t understand parts of it. But the details aren’t important. If they’re really stardust, then that means he doesn’t have to launch himself into space to touch something so rare. He’s got it right here. He’s got it right below him.

Haku trails one of his hands down Eiri’s side until it reaches the hem of his shirt. Long fingers sneak under the fabric and Haku holds his breath when he touches that precious skin for the first time all over again.

Eiri sucks in a gasp, but he doesn’t stop Haku. “Your hand is cold.”

“Sorry.” Haku pauses, then smiles to himself when he continues, “You’re nice and toasty, though, so it should warm up soon enough.” Eiri groans and mutters something about that not being fair, but he only tenses up to try and keep some of the cold out instead of pushing Haku away completely. So that wandering hand continues on its way, fingers gracing soft skin until they bump into the raised patches of old scars blooming here and there across Eiri’s torso. Haku has seen them before. He was personally present for the origins of about half of them.

But occasionally his fingers discover unnatural dips and Haku pauses, frowning, trying to bring the sight of them to mind. Newer scars. The skin has pulled together quickly to heal. Haku can imagine them, but they’re nothing he recognizes. His eyes raise to meet Eiri’s again.

“It’s fine,” Eiri answers, though hushed. “Nothing keeps me down for long, right?” He smiles, reaching up to thread his fingers through Haku’s hair and tugs gently, pulling Haku’s head down to his shoulder. “You can keep going, if you want.” 

But Haku pauses, breathes in Eiri’s familiar scent – traces of warm leather, hints of harsh gunpowder, an undertone of something so distinctly Eiri that only Haku knows, something sweetly alive – and then nudges his face closer to Eiri’s neck until his lips rest against the steadily beating pulse beneath Eiri’s skin. He’s so alive. The scars are only echoes of failed attempts to prove otherwise, but Eiri is made of sterner stuff than anyone else. Space stuff.

Haku’s lips curl into a smile against Eiri’s neck.

Again, his hand continues upward, brushing over those imperfections until he reaches one wound in particular, one on the upper left side of Eiri’s chest. Where Haku had shot him to save his life on their final mission together. As his fingers trace the bumps and crevices, Haku presses his lips to Eiri’s neck, softly. His pulse jumps.

“Haku,” Eiri whispers. “It’s fine.” His fingers tighten in Haku’s hair and Haku relaxes. The universe is all around him, but not so densely as in the man below him. It’s comforting to have the chance to get lost in it all right here. And Haku _can_ get lost in it, because Eiri _is_ fine, regardless of what has happened to him up to this point. Despite the damage he himself has inflicted on his Messiah. Eiri’s fine. The constellations mapped out on his chest are evidence that he’s always come out on top in the end.

Ha. Constellations. Gunshot wounds are hardly comparable to stars. And yet as Haku stretches his fingers, he can connect the scars in simple, but imperfect shapes. Raised skin under his thumb can connect invisibly to another scar under his middle finger and then lead to an indentation just past his pinky. But shapes mean nothing. Triangles or pentagons don’t tell Haku anything about Eiri, not that he needs them to. But rather, as his fingers span the scars, they sometimes span the years, or mere months between Eiri’s wounds, hinting at actual stories. And though they have clearly borne pain for Eiri, they still promise a happy enough ending. And that’s all Haku could ever hope for.

Eiri’s fine. Eiri will _be_ fine. Every day it becomes easier for Haku to believe that. “I know.”

Content with his explorations now, Haku removes his hand from beneath Eiri’s shirt and shuffles back to simply snuggling against his Messiah’s side. “Eiri?”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite piece of space coal.”

“Oh my _God_.” But Eiri’s voice is thick with sarcasm, and even though he twists to hit Haku in the arm, he can’t help but start laughing as he does so. The sound is beautiful to Haku. He could listen to Eiri’s laughter for the rest of his life and be content. Then again, he could listen to Eiri do basically anything and find magic in it, but that laughter tugs at Haku, causing a grin to spread across his face and a warmth to bubble up from deep inside of him until he, too, is caught up in the joy, laughing against Eiri’s shoulder. And he breathes Eiri in, imagining as he does so, that he can take some of Eiri’s stardust into himself, and as he breathes out, he can leave his own brand on Eiri. Their breaths and their closeness can mingle until it’s unclear to the rest of the galaxy where their edges are.

Haku likes that thought. They may be made up of the same space stuff, as Eiri says, but he’s certain they’re different enough from everyone else. They’re very much _them_ , and no one else, nothing else can replicate it, no matter how many more Big Bangs or whatever happen. 

In Haku’s mind, big is overrated, anyway. Just between the two of them, they’re infinite enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Whatever you do, don't listen to any of Sleeping At Last's tracks with planetary titles because you will hurt yourself and cry and then write things like this.
> 
>  _Saturn_ was particularly to blame for inspiration.


End file.
